, 1887-03-31

1t Is like day, and yet no gas Jets are Wis
ible. You cast your eyes upward, expecting
to see chandelier. Instead you see a roof of
paneled glass, richly frosted, and each panel
ornamented with the arms of each state in
bright colors. The light is mellowcd as it
passes through these panels and its rays fail
as softly upon the semi-bald heads of the Sell
ators below as did the rays of Claude Mel
notes ideal alabaster lamps in his
palace by the lake of Como. They make
rosy Elmunds' crown, and cast glints
of silver into Shermans beard I'm
der them Senator Voorhees, red mustache
turns to gold, and the gold spectacles on
EvaTtS' nose send stray rays toward the gal
leries. They act in some parts of the cham
ber like the red lights of the stage, and the
faces of the senators, whether pale or old, be-
come rosy and young under them. They
make the rosewood desks of the senators
shine like mirrors and bring out in bold re-
lief the red handkerchief which peeps out OF
President Ingalls, pocket
The senate is, however, never lively in
comparison with the house. and leave Ed
munds talking on the Mexican war claims in
quiet, drowsy way and take you across tine
Capitol. The passage from the house to the
senate is the Broadway of the Capitol build
ing. 1t has been jammed during thes, last
utiJ difI IOLlSuJ IISJly BIlS anu HOIlleiy
men, millionaires and loafers, authors and
idiots, great statesmen and pot house poll
ticians crowd against each other as though
the Lord had really created them all equal,
and they did not care acent for poverty or
riches, fame or disgrace. We shove Justice
Miller to one side as we go on, stepping on
a senator's corns in the crowd. We pass the
little old French woman selling curios We
go by the telegraph Office and cigar stands
and are at last in the press gallery of the
house. There are 5000 visitors i'll the house
tonight, and what with the smoke of the CON
gressmen below and the polluted air of the
gallery, the combination smells worse than
any matter which has as yet been mixed with
Gods life giving oxygen. The house now
looks like Bedlam gone mad. Speaker Car
Isle is half leaning over his desk and pound
ing with his gavel until the very ceiling rings
vi the noise. He calls "Order! order!- Jut
there is no order. A dozen men are wavi.iS
their arms frantically, and Tom Bayne i,
screaming ut the top of his voice
'Mr. Speaker! Mr.. Speaker" 1t is al
ready after midnight, and the house
does not pretend to keep order. Mem.
bers are lounging about in every conceivable
attitude. One congressman has flattened
himself out on the lounge at the back of the
Republican side of the house and has gone
sound asleep. He snores, too, but the din of
conversation and speaking is so great that the
noise Is not heard. Beside him stand Butter
worth, of Ohio, and Hempbill, of South
Carolina, talking together. Gen. Wheeler, of
Alabama, is jumping about this way and
that. Holman. Tom Reed and Sam Randall
are having a fight over one of the appro-
priation bills, and Frank Hiscock is standing
behind Reed ready to jump into the quarrel
at the slightest opening. 1t is the usual scene
OF the last days of congress, n scene which re-
peatS itself every session, but which is always
new. FRANK G.. CARPENTER.